


The Trees in May

by thanatopis



Series: can't be with you, can't be without [1]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Aged-Up Hiro, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2769956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanatopis/pseuds/thanatopis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tadashi meets her in spring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trees in May

“Tadashi told me that you graduated high school when you were _thirteen_. That’s amazing Hiro—I can’t even imagine.”

_I know._

Scoring his mash potatoes with his fork, Hiro gives a weak smile in Wendy Sky’s direction as she shakes her head with wonderment, plopping another piece of Aunt Cass’s grilled chicken into her mouth with a pleased hum.

Hiro’s trying—trying _really_ hard to seem interested and engaged whenever Tadashi’s new girlfriend speaks to him, but it’s hard to care about Lucy, her pet dog that she’s had going on five years or that new show on the DW about telepathic vampires and shape shifting ware-sharks.

He had been dreading this dinner since Aunt Cass had brought up the possibility of meeting Tadashi’s new “lady friend” as she had put it weeks ago.

Tadashi had laughed it off in the way he always did when he was uncomfortable with the prospect of something as he told Aunt Cass that it really wasn’t necessary—that they weren’t serious or anything—they just had fun seeing each other and hanging out and that was it.

Somehow, Hiro believed that Tadashi had been addressing _him_ when he had said that, even though he had been in the kitchen grabbing a snack only a few feet away from the conversation that he had no intention of involving himself in. Maybe he was being too sure of himself—too cocky thinking that Tadashi still cared about what he thought…because he knew what he thought _well_.

Aunt Cass wasn’t going to take no for an answer and Tadashi easily gave in, begrudgingly answering ‘Saturday’ when Aunt Cass asked him when the best day was to have her over. Tadashi snuck a quick glance in Hiro’s direction that he didn’t bother returning. Even at seventeen Hiro could still be stubbornly childish, especially when he was upset with Tadashi—though, weeks later it felt more like hurt.

Hiro really had nothing to say on the matter—nothing that hadn’t been said a million times before when Tadashi’s unfound guilt would steadily eat away at him until not even Hiro could convince him otherwise.

They had broken it off again three months ago and Tadashi rarely ever tried to be in the same room alone with him, always leaving the door open when he would walk into Hiro’s room like they still shared one.

The simple lack of Tadashi everywhere in Hiro’s life was difficult to say the least. He rarely saw his older brother, with Tadashi graduating from SFIT and leaving the nest to find his own home, appearances from his older brother became sparse and even worse more so now …

It was incredibly frustrating—the months spent apart but Hiro never pushed or pestered Tadashi in his need to be away from Hiro even though it hurt like a punch in the gut every time Tadashi pulled away from him.

Hiro understood the need for separation but then he didn’t. They loved each other—passionately and more boldly than what regular brother’s feel. Hiro’s tried examining it, tried to break it down to time, mathematical equations and theories wondering what went haywire for them and when. It’s only later, when Tadashi smiles softly at him, grabbing Hiro and pulling him into his body during one of their more indulgent moments that Hiro realizes that what he feels for Tadashi isn’t a _thinking_ thing—it never has been.

It isn’t anything that he rationalize with math or physics, especially when Tadashi kisses him so softly or tenderly brushes his hair out of his eyes with the most fondest of expressions that Hiro’s breath catches in his throat.

Hiro’s come to accept what he feels and wonders during instances like this with startling irritation why can’t Tadashi? He feels guilty afterwards at the intensity of his anger, knowing that it’s harder on Tadashi—feeling this way—that there is a lot of guilt and blame and a sense of shame that he can’t whisk away with reassuring words and touches.

And he will never able too.

How do you stop loving your brother? How do you stop when you don’t want to?

* * *

 

Hiro excuses himself early from the dinner table when Aunt Cass asks how Wendy and Tadashi first met.

Wendy beams at the question, her cheeks flushing a delighted rose pink, making the freckles on the bridge of her nose stand out even more against her pale skin.

Hiro tries not to fidget in his seat as Wendy recounts a beautiful spring afternoon where the cherry blossom trees had just come into full bloom. She hadn’t been paying attention as she had been walking admiring the canopy of trees, her head in the clouds.

Tadashi had run into her…or she had run into him—she couldn’t quiet remember because when she looked up at the stranger she’d collided with Wendy was utterly enamored with the sight of him. Baseball cap, light green cardigan sweater that brought out the color of his eyes, smile warm and soft as he shyly asked her out for coffee...

Hiro says something about going to the bathroom after that, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him as he stands abruptly from the table.

He doesn’t have to look at Tadashi to see the torn look on his face, his knuckles blanching at the death grip he gives his fork.

 _Good then_ , Hiro bitterly thinks, converses loudly thumping up the stairs as he hurries to the safety of his bedroom.

He doesn’t mean to slam the door behind him.

* * *

 

There a hesitant knock that comes later.

Hiro knows who it is before the door even opens.

He was expecting this—waiting for it actually. Anytime alone with Tadashi is valuable to him. Hiro doesn’t have to wear the mask that he’s so used to sporting. Tadashi doesn’t judge him, likes and appreciates it when Hiro drops it around him—not that he has a choice in the matter, a big part of his mask involves Tadashi.

“I’m fine, really. Sorry I bailed out like that I just…” Hiro trails off, losing his spot in the manga he’d been half-heartedly reading.

“I didn’t feel up to hearing the whole story, you know?” Hiro says uncertainly, drumming his fingers on his thighs.

Tadashi frowns, nodding his head slowly and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans against the door jam, arms crossed over his chest.

“No, it’s okay…” Tadashi says softly, timid sound of understanding in his tone and for that Hiro is grateful.

Hiro smiles wirily, trying his best to be whatever Tadashi needs him to be at this moment, not wanting to push but so desperately wanting to test boundaries to see how far Tadashi is willing to let him go.

It’s always been like that.

“You can come in and close the door. I’m not gonna jump you Tadashi.” Hiro says jokingly and smiles slightly when Tadashi huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he closes the door with a quiet _click_.

The sound excites Hiro for reasons that are reminders of the past and progressions of the future. Though, there’s slight disappointment when Tadashi doesn’t come in any further into his bedroom than necessary, leaning his hip against Hiro’s desk.

“Good enough I guess?” Hiro sighs, shutting _OnePunch Man_ with a smack of his hands as he puts the manga down and shuffles to make more room on his bed. He points to the available space by his feet with a petulant pout.

“Sit down, you’re making me uncomfortable just watching you jeez.”

Tadashi exhales a slow breath, no doubt considering the smartness of such a move. They’re walking a thin enough line as it is but Hiro always wants to go to the edge, to dangle and sway feeling the adrenaline that comes with the possibility of falling.

And when he falls…

Tadashi gives in. Sooner or later he always does.

“Fine,” With an aspirated groan Tadashi drags himself over to Hiro, collapsing on the end of his bed with his arms and legs handing off the edges in a picture that would be amusing if Hiro didn’t suddenly see how _exhausted_ Tadashi looks.

His brows rise, “Tired?”

Tadashi snorts, rolling over onto his stomach. “Just a bit.”

That’s the understatement of the year, Hiro thinks, looking at his brother.

They lapse into a quiet lull after a while, the silence not awkward but not comfortable either and Hiro _hates_ it. Tadashi stays on his stomach, even breaths lifting his back and Hiro watches the movement with interest as he listen to the sounds of dishes being washed and laughter echoing up towards his room.

Hiro frowns, watching his brother hoping that Tadashi isn’t using this time away from Aunt Cass and Wendy to catch a quick little cat nap.

“Hey nerd, you better not be asleep.” Hiro says, poking and needling Tadashi in the side with his sock covered toe. “I’ll kick you off.” He warns.

Tadashi laughs, the sound muffled into his shoulder and Hiro startles slightly when a hand grabs at his ankle, fingers curling around the circumference of it in a way that makes Hiro shiver as Tadashi gives one hardy tug that pulls him with a _jerk_ from the head of his bed.

“I’d like to see you try.” That smile is back, the crooked one that makes Hiro giddy. It’s the first time he’s seen it tonight.

Hiro grins, slow and lavish, eyes lidding at the playful exchange despite knowing the innocent intentions behind it. His eyes trace over Tadashi’s face—over that smile—amazed by how the simple warmth of Tadashi’s hand wrapped around his ankle fills heat within himself that cascades all throughout his body.

Before he knows it, Hiro’s leaning up, brushing his fingers timidly over Tadashi’s cheek as if he’ll break. That heart stopping smile flickers over Tadashi’s face in confusion before it tampers out completely and something inside Hiro bitterly stings.

“Hiro—”

“ _I miss you_.” It’s spoken on a quiet, desperate whisper.

That’s his truth. The one thing he can say without breaking Tadashi’s rules or crossing that line.

“You never come visit anymore…I know why but—it’s still not fair. I want you around, I miss you.” He repeats, throat closing around a lump that he tries to swallow down.

Hiro thumb swipes Tadashi’s cheekbone in the same mock move Tadashi used to do to him. The widening of his eyes makes the corner of Hiro’s mouth quirk and he shakes his head.

“What you didn’t think I would notice? My life isn’t spent in my lab you know.” Hiro jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere but Tadashi doesn’t take it.

“I’m sorry—it’s just, you know why I stay away.” Tadashi says, lifting up on his elbows. His eyes are sad when he tilts his head into the cradle of Hiro’s palm, giving it a kiss and Hiro swears he’ll feel the warmth of those lips on his hand for hours.

“It’s hard for me too you know.” Tadashi says quietly, eyes casting down.

“Then why do it in the first place?” Hiro’s asked Tadashi multitudes of the same question and he’s never pleased with the answer.

“You know why.” Tadashi says with a little more heat in his voice, eyes narrowing. “Hiro it’s not right.”

_I don’t care. I want it._

As if burned by the words, Hiro takes his hand away, scowling as he moves back up the bed away from Tadashi. He doesn’t want to talk about how it’s not right—they never get anywhere when they do. How can something _wrong_ feel right? How can something _wrong_ fill him with such lightness that every bone in his body feels weightless? It’s impossible.

“And so what?—you're happy playing normal with _her_?” Hiro points to his door, gesturing to Wendy who is laughing and probably sharing stories with Aunt Cass downstairs with a distasteful sneer.

“She’s not for you—she’s not interested in _anything_ that you are and you’re just what?—okay with that?”

Tadashi sighs, running his hands through his hair, pulling slightly at the roots.

“Hiro, calm down—I’m sor—”

Something inside Hiro snaps as he rises from his bed, eyes burning and throat bobbing.

“No, I’m tired of hearing that you’re sorry when you’re not!”

Tadashi mouth parts on a surprised breath, eyes widening in both parts shock and hurt but Hiro keeps going, his feelings and thoughts—his _anger_ from the past three months bubbling over in a violent fizz of emotional repression.

“You’re such an ass! I—I don’t get you sometimes, really Tadashi!” Hiro scoffs, kneeling by Tadashi on the bed and grabbing his face with both his hands on his cheeks. He searches the depths of those eyes desperately, pleading.

“What’s wrong with this?” Hiro whispers, voice dropping as he brings his lips to hover over Tadashi’s, angling his face to brush them lightly together.

Hiro’s eyes lid as a thrill of excitement shoots through his spine when Tadashi’s lips part on a wispy, heated breath, eyes flickering down to Hiro’s lips. So close to his own but giving him the choice to press further.

“It shouldn’t feel like this.” Tadashi sighs—a simple observation that’s lost on Hiro when fingers reach up to brush away hair from his eyes, lingering to trace the shell of his ear.

Hiro smiles sadly, nodding his head.

“But it does.”


End file.
